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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015559">dark magic in those deep brown eyes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightsonatas/pseuds/starlightsonatas'>starlightsonatas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Snark, Trapped In A Closet, nothing explicit though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:27:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightsonatas/pseuds/starlightsonatas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s close enough now that Edward has to tilt his head up to meet his eyes, barely visible in the darkness. Still, he can see how they burn, intense and almost—but only almost—warm.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>dark magic in those deep brown eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I binged the codotverse again this week and naturally I felt the need to write for my boys. This is a very silly fic and I had a lot of fun writing it. </p>
<p>Title from Magnetic by Seafret.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me bring the girls along,” Edward sighs.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe even Query and Echo could rein in your stupid decisions.” Jonathan replies coldly.</p>
<p>“I <em>see</em>, so this is my fault now!”</p>
<p>“You’re the one who got us locked in the <em>fucking</em> closet,” Jonathan snaps.</p>
<p>“What else was I supposed to do? It was this or Arkham,” Edward replies, wrinkling his nose. “You really should be thanking me. I don’t know how I managed to fit us both in here, what with your ridiculous limbs.” </p>
<p>“How sweet of you,” Jonathan says dryly. He doesn’t argue the fact though, most likely because he does in fact take up most of the space thanks to his height, arms crossed lest they hit the cold piping that runs along the back wall. </p>
<p>“You’d think the Gotham Museum of Antiquities would have bigger storage rooms, given their grandiosity in everything else,” Edward muses. “Alas.” </p>
<p>Edward had teamed up with the Scarecrow to take over the museum for logical reasons; the doctor wanted to test a new strain of his toxin, and Edward wanted the new emerald on display that had been unveiled last week. Jonathan had scoffed at him for that, of course. Anyhow, it had all been going quite smoothly until Batman showed up to ruin their fun as he was wont to do. With no time to get to the ground floor and unwilling to risk a broken leg by jumping out the window, Edward had made the split second decision to grab Jonathan and pull them both into a storage closet, flinging a smoke bomb—green, obviously—through the window he refused to jump out of for good measure, hoping the police and the caped crusader would assume they’d made their escape. </p>
<p>And in fact it had worked, as they waited with bated breath until the sounds of gruff voices and heavy boots faded away. It was quite brilliant, really. Perfect improvisation.</p>
<p>…Except for the fact that the closet was apparently able to lock on its own. </p>
<p>When Edward had been sure that the coast was clear he’d gone to turn the doorknob, casually at first, then more and more frantically as the reality of the situation dawned on him.</p>
<p>Jonathan had snapped at him to hurry up and let him out, and Edward had shot right back that if Jonathan wanted to try, he was welcome to.</p>
<p>Jonathan did so, and when he failed to produce results either a great deal of arguing ensued, continuing all the way to the present.</p>
<p>“Look, let me call the girls and we’ll be out of here before you know it.” Edward digs into his pocket for his phone, dialing up Query but unable to resist rolling his eyes at Jonathan, who huffs. </p>
<p>“Childish,” Jonathan grumbles.</p>
<p>“Oh, whatever.”</p>
<p>“Boss?” Query’s voice is a welcome sound. “I was about to call you. You’re late for poker. Heist went wrong?”</p>
<p>Ah, in his emotional duress Edward had nearly forgotten about their weekly game night. “Indeed, I'm afraid we might have to postpone. Our favorite vigliante showed up and we had to improvise. He thinks we’re halfway across the city by now.”</p>
<p>“I’m going to take a guess and say that they’re wrong about that.”</p>
<p>“Correct. We are in a closet.”</p>
<p>There’s a pause. Edward thinks he hears a snicker in the background, a distinctly Echo noise. He’ll have to have a word with her later about proper respect. He pays them too much to be laughed at.</p>
<p>“Sorry, what?” Query asks.</p>
<p>“We’re locked in a storage closet in the museum,” Edward repeats. “Second floor, left wing. So, if you would be so kind as to come assist us in getting out of said closet, it would be appreciated. Do not ask how it happened.”</p>
<p>Murmuring on the other end of the line. “Alright, but it might be a minute.”</p>
<p>Edward can feel dread creeping up his spine. “Query, exactly how long is a minute?”</p>
<p>“Well, several minutes.” Query pauses, the way she does when delivering news she knows Edward won’t be happy to hear. “Probably… twenty.”</p>
<p>Edward makes a noise somewhere between a cough and a frustrated whine.<br/>
“You can’t get here any faster?”</p>
<p>“Going off what you said, Bat’s on the prowl, boss,” Query says, and Edward can practically hear her shrug of <em>what can I do?</em> “We gotta take the long way round if you don’t want to be stuck there for days while we sit around behind bars.” </p>
<p>“Fine.” Edward pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just make it as quick as you can.”</p>
<p>“You got it.”</p>
<p>He hangs up, cursing under his breath. Jonathan raises a brow. “Trouble?”</p>
<p>“They’re taking a detour,” Edward says snippily. “We’ll have to coexist a while longer yet.”</p>
<p>“Coño,” Jonathan hisses.</p>
<p>“Oh, now that's just vulgar,” Edward complains. “Where’s you learn that? You’re Colombian.” He’s still unused to hearing Jonathan’s Spanish—he pitches his voice differently than when he speaks English, and it’s more attractive than Edward will ever admit aloud. </p>
<p>“Colombian-Ecuadorian,” Jonathan corrects, “but if you must know, I picked it up during a brief and awful stay in Miami.” </p>
<p>“What on Earth were you doing in Miami?” Edward is thoroughly taken aback.</p>
<p>“Had a new formula and wanted to see how it interacted with heat,” Jonathan explains. “Gotham isn’t very conductive for that, and Batman was on my tail that month anyway, so I took a… vacation, you could call it.”</p>
<p>“Ah, a nice relaxation vacation of terrorizing the good Cubans of Florida. And picking up their slang, it seems.”</p>
<p>Jonathan sighs. </p>
<p>They lapse into silence for the first time since discovering they were trapped. In this proximity Edward is hyper aware of every movement the other makes, every time the rhythm of his breathing changes. He’s worked with Jonathan before, sometimes successfully and sometimes not, but this is new. It’s not odd for them to argue, but the circumstances have set them both on edge, forced them closer—literally. Though being crammed in this closet isn’t ideal, Edward finds that despite the snark and cold attitude the man exudes, he isn’t at all opposed to Jonathan’s presence. It’s rather nice to have someone match him wit for wit. </p>
<p>At this point the quiet has grown uncomfortable, so Edward does what he does best: he talks.</p>
<p>“I should be collecting my winnings from Query and Echo right now,” he says wistfully. Jonathan raises an eyebrow, and though it was likely unintentional Edward jumps at the opportunity to elaborate. “It’s game night. Poker, blackjack, the whole nine yards. They can hold their own against me, but of course I stay one step ahead at all times.”</p>
<p>“Should’ve known you gamble,” Jonathan remarks. </p>
<p>“On occasion.” Edward shrugs. “Most people are hopeless at it, though, so I’m rather selective.” He tilts his head. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take that chance.”</p>
<p>Jonathan steps forward. “I think you’d find that I am not so easily defeated.”</p>
<p>He’s close enough now that Edward has to tilt his head up to meet his eyes, barely visible in the darkness. Still, he can see how they burn, intense and almost—but only almost—warm.</p>
<p>Edward shifts slightly and manages to knock over a broom, startling him enough that he unconsciously moves toward Jonathan, which means he is now pressed up against him. He realizes quite suddenly that they’ve never touched before. He swallows, able to feel every slow breath that Jonathan takes. He’s awfully thin, his ribs practically protrude, and Edward sort of wants to run his hands across them—</p>
<p>Jonathan makes a choked sound, and Edward is yanked back into reality with the revelation that he has, in fact, begun to trail his hands up Jonathan’s sides. </p>
<p>Shit. He hadn’t meant to actually do that. “Um,” he says intelligently, removing his fingers from where they were brushing against the itchy burlap of Jonathan’s costume. He doesn’t get far, however, before Jonathan’s own hands come up to encircle his wrists, holding them in place.</p>
<p>Edward shivers.</p>
<p>“How long did those ladies of yours say they’d be?” Jonathan asks, tone level as always but laced with something darker.</p>
<p>“Oh, about ten more minutes or so,” Edward hums thoughtfully.</p>
<p>In unison, they look at the storage closet door.</p>
<p>They look back at each other.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>—</p>
</div>Diedre Vance is having a thoroughly interesting night.<p>She’d been worried when Edward hadn’t shown up for game night, but for the first few minutes she’d simply assumed he was held up by some sort of complication. It was a known fact that working with Scarecrow came with quite the risk. After a while, though, she and Nina had both realized that something more was going on.</p>
<p>Edward’s call had confirmed that, so here she is, parking the car and stepping out with a crowbar and a length of rope slung over her shoulder. Nina follows behind, shotgun in hand, because one can never be too prepared. There are guards all over the place, probably from paranoia that the Riddler and the Scarecrow will return to finish the job, but it’s easy enough to sneak past the fools and they only have to knock out two. Diedre and Nina have barely broken a sweat by the time they start scaling the museum wall.</p>
<p>Hoisting herself up into the spacious room on the second floor, Diedre looks around for the closet her unfortunate boss is trapped in. She catches sight of it to the left, barely visible in the darkness, and she notes with some alarm that it clearly wasn’t built to fit even one person comfortably, and certainly not two. </p>
<p>She wonders if either of them are still alive, or if she’ll open the door to find two corpses choked to death by their own egos.</p>
<p>“Boss?” She calls out.</p>
<p>“Query!” Comes the muffled reply. “There you are. Now get us out of here.”</p>
<p>Diedre passes the rope off to Nina so that she can tie it around the windowsill for an easier descent. Turning back to the door, she grips the crowbar in both hands.</p>
<p>“I’m breaking this shit,” she warns Edward and Jonathan. Adjusting her stance, she brings the crowbar down on the doorknob and hears the satisfying crunch of a cylinder breaking. Her boss and the Scarecrow come tumbling out, suspiciously sweaty and unkempt. </p>
<p>“Well,” Edward pants, trying to be discreet about buttoning his shirt back up and failing extraordinarily, “that was an illuminating experience.”</p>
<p>“About damn time,” Jonathan grumbles, though the gruffness is somewhat negated by the way his hair is mussed in a way that could only have resulted from it being pulled on.</p>
<p>“Sorry for the wait, boss,” Nina says, having finished with the rope, and Diedre notices how her shoulders shake with the effort of holding back laughter. </p>
<p>Jonathan at least has the decency to nod in their direction. “Query. Echo.” It’s likely the most thanks they’ll get tonight, Diedre thinks bemusedly. </p>
<p>“Hi Doctor Crane,” she and Nina reply together. Edward is already clambering down from the window, and Diedre knows he only moves that awkwardly and quickly when he’s flustered.</p>
<p>The rope holds for all of them, thankfully, and once they’re safely on the ground again Jonathan immediately begins walking in the opposite direction of Diedre’s car.</p>
<p>“Are you really going to <em>walk</em> all the way back?” Edward asks incredulously. Diedre’s head whips around to look at him, quite shocked. Is he… offering the Scarecrow a ride? Her boss is many things, but being generous is not one of them. If there was any doubt of what happened in that storage closet, it’s gone now. Nina must have come to the same conclusion, if the elbow digging into Diedre’s side and the snicker by her ear is any indication. </p>
<p>Jonathan stops, turning back to look at the trio and shrugging. “Why not?” </p>
<p>Edward scoffs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s freezing out.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>Edward frowns. “Don’t be stubborn. Get in the car.”</p>
<p>Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “Have a good night, Edward.” He stalks off quickly before Edward can protest.</p>
<p>Diedre glances between his retreating form and her boss, who is standing still as she’s ever seen him. He blinks, coming back to himself with a visible jolt.</p>
<p>“Have a good night,” he mutters. “Really. As if he… <em>means</em> that.” He gestures at Diedre and Nina. “Alright, let’s go. I was promised poker and I intend to collect.”</p>
<p>Diedre tosses her keys in the air and catches them, then acquiesces. No use in getting the Riddler any more riled up, especially not if she wants a chance at winning the betting pool tonight.</p>
<p>Edward sniffs as he slides into the passenger seat, Jonathan’s words clearly still affecting him. “See if I work with that man again. Of all the infuriating, self-righteous…”</p>
<p>Diedre catches Nina’s eye through the rear-view mirror and mouths the word <em>idiots</em>, affectionate and exasperated as always.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I couldn't resist adding my headcanons for Jonathan and Edward's races/ethnicities, which are highly specific and make no sense to anyone but me. Jonathan is Quechua Colombian-Ecuadorian and Edward is Taíno Cuban, and both speak Spanish. If I accomplish anything in this fandom, I hope it can be that I successfully spread the Indigenous Latino Jon and Edward agenda.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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